Where I stood
by Nicolehalescuito
Summary: Edward never changed Bella, the Volturi never interfered, This is the story of Edward's last moments with Bella, up to her death and last breath. Oneshot  E/B OOC Edward


The dim hallway was framed with picture frames hanging from the wall. Small ones, big ones, they were all placed strategically and neatly on the walls, not a single one crooked or out of place. In almost all the pictures, there was a smiling brown haired woman, whose chocolate eyes were forever laughing. Along the hallway, the woman in the pictures seem to age, sometimes a few locks of hair grayed, sometimes wrinkles appeared. From a young, bright young lady, she transformed into a withered old woman. And yet the same happiness shone through. If you looked closely, you would notice that in all the photos, the sky was overcast and dark. And in some, there would be a man with; perhaps his arm around her or something like that, his face with was pearly white, his features radiating such beauty that he should have been exhibited in a museum of some sort.

And though as the pictures progressed, the woman aged, the man never changed. Not a wrinkle, not a white hair. In fact, it was almost like he was _exactly the same _in every picture. Like he was frozen in time_, _forever young, forever looking seventeen.

Edward Cullen, the man who could at once be recognized in the pictures, strode through the hallway, a small porcelain cup in his hands. He held it gingerly, as though afraid to spill even a drop as his eyes wandered over the pictures. There is a small smile on his face, as if he is remembering every single one of the memories captured in the pictures. His footsteps stop for awhile as he gazes upon a picture reaching out a finger to caress it. The woman looks especially happy here, her face flushed with pride, her fingers clutching a bouquet of flowers. Edward is beside her of course, looking just as happy. Edward smiles down at the woman fondly, still fingering the picture. This is his favorite after all, it was their wedding photo.

Edward was seemingly lost in a reverie, and only snapped back into the present after a moment. He continued his hurried footsteps and gently pushed open the doors as he approached the bed room. The woman from the pictures- Isabella Swan or Cullen was lying on the bed, her white hair spread on the pillow around her like a halo. Edward couldn't help but smile, after all these years she still looked as beautiful to him as when she was eighteen. He placed the cup on her nightstand, and slowly leaned down to kiss his sleeping beauty on the forehead.

She began to stir and mumbled his name. Edward drew up the chair beside her bed and sat down.

As the old woman opened her once chocolate brown eyes, it could be noticed that they were now slightly clouded. She broke out into a very sweet smile as soon as she saw him, and he reached out to prop her up on the pillows.

"Did I wake you? I'm sorry." He murmured, attempting to fluff up her pillows. She didn't reply, a happy expression frozen on her face, and he sighed. It was a sigh of sadness, and his facial expression became pained. He had been told, a year ago, that his wife had dementia, which meant she would forever been trapped in memories, and memories only, with no sense of the present. Doctors' doubted she would ever become the old Bella again, or ever show him a sign of recognition; but still, he sat by her bedside every day, and took care of her. Just like he had promised, to be by her side forever.

"Come on Bella, drink." He urged softly as he held the cup up to her wizened, cracked lips and poured it slowly in. Some of it dribbled down onto her nightgown, and he wiped her mouth ever so gently, as though handling some glass figurine which might break any second. Placing the cup back on the nightstand, he mulled over what he had learned from his younger sister today.

Bella was going to die.

He knew her days were numbered, and yet, when the day finally came, it seemed so surreal. He felt an empty, hollow feeling inside, knowing he could do nothing but watch her die. It would have came to this eventually, he told himself that many times. There was no, absolutely no way that he would change her. He refused to turn her into a monster he loathed. _She has a choice, you didn't_, He thought as he stroked her hair, combing it into gentle waves.

No matter how many times she had begged him, he still refused to do so. It was the one thing he didn't give her, the only thing. As much as it pained him to do so, he couldn't watch her suffer through the change. He couldn't do that to her.

After she died, or moved on, he would follow on as soon as possible. After all, he couldn't imagine life without her. The past few years he had spent with her were the epitome of his century old life. What he had lived for.

Rising slowly so as not to startle Bella, he reached out for a worn out, leather bound book on her bookcase. As his fingers traced the golden lettering, he smiled too. _Wuthering heights. _It had been her favorite book, and now, he chose to read it to her.

His velvet voice resounded throughout the room and words rolled off his tongue like honey, smooth and articulate. And yet Isabella did not once look up at the voice that used to bring her so much joy, only fiddling with her fingers. Edward knew the words by heart now; he had read it to her so many times when her eyesight had been poor. It mattered not that she was barely paying even the slightest attention to him, simply being able to read those words, to taste them on the tip of his tongue, brought back a fresh stream of memories.

He became so engrossed in reading, delving and drowning in his memories, it was only when he saw a single sparkling tear slid down her cheek did he stop. He was by her side in an instant, but she was again unresponsive. He took his finger and wiped away the salty tear. 

_Flashback_

_It had been a long day. They had just gone to see Charlie's grave- unable to attend the funeral because people would have questioned Edward's age. As Bella bent down to read the words on the tombstone, a single tear slid down her cheek. Edward squatted next to her, and gently brushed it away, and quickly, as though not wanting her to see, placed it in his mouth. _

"_What, what are you doing?" Bella asked, astonished._

"_Your tears taste surprisingly salty," Edward said nonchalantly, a twinkle in his eye. This had cause Bella to laugh through her tears, claiming she had read it in a book of some sort. Edward just smiled mysteriously, and guided her away from the tombstone. _

_End Flashback_

Edward began to count Bella's heartbeats.

Thud, Thud, Thud…

They began to grow weaker and weaker, and softer.

Her breathing hitched a little, and grew uneven. He knew the end was near, and slowly reached out to pull the blanket higher.

"Bella, I love you." He whispered, and suddenly felt tears well up in his eyes. There was nothing he could do but watch on helplessly as she struggled to breath, her eyelids drooping.

Hesitantly, he reached out a hand to smoothen away her wrinkles, and said, "Goodbye, sweet Bella. I will see you again, and follow you even after death." Leaning forward to kiss her forehead, he felt her clammy palm tighten around his, and looked at the face of the woman he had always loved. His true soulmate, his other half, and the love of his life. Was he really going to let her go?

Bella shuddered weakly, and almost as if he imagined it, her lips parted, and a weak whisper escaped. "I… I… love you… Edward."

"As do I, Isabella. As do I." He murmured, watching in agony as his love slipped away.

**A/N: I know, I know this was not very good. SORRY!**

**Review anyways, okay?**


End file.
